Forelsket
by littleparadox
Summary: <html><head></head>And yes, you're right, Kid Flash—it's me who wouldn't forget you.</html>


**Teen Titans is DC Comic's. I do not own them or any characters here.**

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><p><strong>F O R E L S K E T<strong>

_**(The euphoria of falling in love for the first time)**_

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><p><strong>Amakusa Natsumi<strong>

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><p>"<em>You bring bad luck."<em>

_._

Sorry, but it won't make any effect. It won't. I'm already invincible to such sentences, even my mind remembers clearly what kind of intonations they use when they're saying it. Those sarcasm that haunted me for years turned out to make some kind of immunity against it.

I'm more identical to the dim violet dusk if he is the unlimited clear blue sky. If I am cynical and unpredictable, he is the absolute opposite. You could already see it from his childish smirk and teasing gesture.

And yes; my appearance is way too different from his. If he's busy with himself and that silly costume (with that mini-lighting on his head—_for heaven's sake, _he's so childish!), I prefer being wrapped up with dark colors—since I don't like being striking. He, unlike me, was pathetically letting himself covered by bright yellow and blazing orange. Well, okay—maybe my hair _is _bubblegum pink, but I like it. And I certainly never touch my hair every time like _him!_

He likes to tease, joke around, and he is definitely lazy. But I guess I'm more serious and ambitious. I could lead well. I know what to do anytime, under any circumstances. Okay, maybe I panic sometimes, but at least I'm not like him—freezing until the blazing situation calms down.

Sometimes, in the middle of the night's darkness, my pale pink eye beads will perfectly open—and in seconds, an image of him flashed through my mind. And after that I would sit on my messy bed, what my hand causes in a dream of losing _him._

I know that he's a stupid jerk. I know that sometimes he could be so arrogant, so snobby and over-confident—yet at the same time, I know he is a sweet dream.

And about me scared of losing him—yes, it was also true.

I haven't the slightest idea why on earth I fell for him. A total idiot—too carefree when he looked at life, and his only pride is his foot.

But it is also sometimes when I stamp myself as a fellow idiot for falling for him.

My feet brought me outside of the building, running through the cold night breeze that slapped my cheeks harshly. I felt the lights in my eye fading out sadly. No. Crying was forbidden in my life. I never did it—at least not in front of anyone. _You are strong, you are strong, you are strong._

His name. I called his name. The two words that made my heart jump uncontrollably. His face. I stared at his face, then his eyes. The two brilliant beads that made myself twirl into it, hypnotized and melt.

"You got something you want to say, Jinx?"

My name. He called my name. I don't know why, but I felt a particular tenderness when he said it. That feeling was not completely gone. Not yet, from the day where we first met, until this very second. No. Not yet.

"Will you..." I stopped it doubt halfway to the completion of the sentence. I let myself gulped before I continued, "Will you forget me?"

He didn't say anything. For a split second I was awestruck because of the composition of the scene that I saw just now. The sparkling rooftops when the moonbeam shone on it—with him, standing in the middle as a center. What I adore the most.

Instead of saying anything, he leaned forward. Towards me. Spontaneously I closed my eyes shut awkwardly, not knowing what will he do next, and stood still—at least until a voice got into my ears.

"It's _you _who wouldn't forget me, Jinx."

My pink eyes opened, but what I saw was only the unlimited midnight sky. I looked around, but there was not any single clue of his existence. The rooftop I was standing on was empty. There was only very, very loud silence.

He was gone. He left until—I don't even know when will he come back. He never mentioned about destinations. He never said anything about him wanting to come back here, nor why did he has to leave nor why did he want to.

But he did say something about him missing me.

A red rose was there in front of me, right where he was standing before. I reached down and picked it, smiling, suddenly remembered when we first met.

And yes, you're right, Kid Flash—it's me who wouldn't forget you.

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><p><strong>FIN<strong>

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading. <strong>

**Mind to review?**


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